Love and Crown

All these years, with gratitude and grudges laid to rest, every midnight when dreams return, listening to the crows' night cries and the wind and rain on the evening bridge, I always think of how the rivers and mountains are like a dream—and like you.

—Epigraph

It had been some time since they descended from the cliff. Luo Mo had been staying with Xiao Yu in the valley villa for recuperation.

Although Zhong Lin had become the sect leader, there were still many things he didn’t understand. The others, following old habits, would still come to her whenever they encountered something they couldn’t figure out or a problem they couldn’t resolve.

Only now, no one called her "Sect Leader" anymore—instead, they addressed her as "Teacher," which was fitting since most of the sect members were indeed her disciples.

And since they called her "Teacher," whenever they ran into Xiao Yu, they naturally called him "Shiniang" (Teacher’s Wife).

After being called "Shiniang" one too many times, the former Emperor Ruizong naturally grew uncomfortable. One day, he broached the subject with Luo Mo in a roundabout way. Luo Mo, who had initially been too lazy to intervene, saw how genuinely aggrieved he looked and decided to ask Zhong Lin and the others why they insisted on calling him "Shiniang."

Zhong Lin, being straightforward, widened his eyes in surprise and said, "Can’t we call him Shiniang? Teacher, are you still not planning to give him a proper title?"

Hiding behind the curtain to eavesdrop, the former Emperor Ruizong felt a lump of blood rise in his throat—whether he spat it out or swallowed it, the frustration remained.

To the flirtatious and irreverent Guardian Wu Shui, who never minced words even with elders, the matter was much simpler. She laughed heartily and said, "Teacher, you’ve been hiding such a beauty here—of course we’d call him Shiniang! Calling him 'Shigong' (Teacher’s Husband) would just be weird."

Then, with a sly glance toward the curtain, she added, "By the way, Teacher, why not take Shiniang out for walks more often? Keeping such a peerless beauty cooped up indoors—aren’t you afraid he’ll wither away? Even though Young Master Xiao is gone, Shiniang is still a true stunner, you know."

Indeed, the members of the Azure Jade Sect had always been fond of the Xiao family’s looks. Back when Xiao Huan was still in the sect, they had practically lined up daily just to catch a glimpse of him.

As for Xiao Yu—after having his heart meridian severed and being pulled back from the brink of death, not only had he grown much thinner, but he had also stopped wearing his mask, revealing a face strikingly similar to Xiao Huan’s… no, rather, it was Xiao Huan who resembled him. Gone was the domineering aura he once had as Gui Wuchang. Now, dressed in white robes with his hair half-loose, he spent his days recuperating in the villa, the silver streaks at his temples adding a touch of fragile beauty to his appearance.

As Guardian Wu Shui put it, he was so delicate and pitiable that not calling him "Shiniang" would feel like a crime against one’s conscience.

After gathering her disciples’ opinions and relaying them to Xiao Yu, Luo Mo could only sigh helplessly and conclude, "They’re all children I raised—they’ve grown up lawless, and I can’t control them anymore."

And weren’t they indeed lawless by nature? Wasn’t the Azure Jade Sect’s main hall called the "Lawless Heaven Hall"?

Hearing this answer, the former Emperor—already weakened by illness, prone to overthinking, and nursing grievances—mistook it as Luo Mo’s new way of deliberately allowing her disciples to humiliate him.

With a forced, gentle smile, his heart twisted in torment. His fragile heart meridian easily stirred his qi and blood into turmoil, and by the time he spoke, there was already a faint metallic taste of blood in his throat: "If that’s the case… then there’s nothing to be done."

Luo Mo prided herself on being a lenient and kind teacher. How could she scold her disciples over something as harmless as an affectionate nickname? Calmly, she nodded and said, "It can’t be helped."Her deep eyes flickered slightly, and Xiao Yu forced a faint smile, his face pale as he suppressed the blood rising in his throat. "You've gone to too much trouble for me, Luo Mo."

Unfortunately, Luo Mo didn’t notice his convoluted thoughts. She responded indifferently with a simple "You're welcome" and didn’t bring it up again.

The days passed slowly like this, and soon a rather unique festival arrived. It was unique because it wasn’t celebrated elsewhere—only the followers of the Azure Jade Sect held festivities for it. And the celebration was particularly special: setting off fireworks.

For this joyous occasion, Luo Mo made a special trip to the Headquarters to make an appearance. When night fell and the fireworks celebration began, she even indulged in a few drinks.

Because of this, she was delayed for a while before returning to the Villa. By then, Xiao Yu had already finished his dinner and taken his medicine. Seeing her walk in, he hesitantly asked, "What festival is today? I wasn’t aware of it."

If he hadn’t mentioned it, it might have been fine. But the moment he did, Luo Mo’s expression turned cold. This date was a scar on her heart. Even now, she could remain calm if others asked about it, but she absolutely couldn’t keep her composure when it was him.

She let out a cold snort, her tone almost reverting to the sharpness of their past confrontations. "It’s no festival. Just the death anniversary of someone long forgotten by His Majesty… the actual day of passing."

Without another glance at Xiao Yu, she flicked her sleeve and went inside to bathe and sober up.

It was just a minor outburst on her part, but when she finished washing and came out, she found Xiao Yu still sitting in a chair outside, unsure whether he couldn’t move or simply didn’t want to. His face was ashen, his fingers pressing tightly against his chest.

Seeing him like this, Luo Mo couldn’t help but feel a twinge of exasperation. The man who had once seemed so invulnerable now couldn’t even handle a harsh word, constantly acting like a delicate beauty clutching his heart. And yet, he still disliked being called "Shiniang" (Master’s Wife)?

Despite her thoughts, she walked over and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He lowered his head and coughed lightly a few times before looking up at her with a clearly forced smile. "Luo Mo, I’m fine. You should go rest first…"

But his words were hollow. Before he could even finish speaking, his face grew even paler. He pressed his lips together, turned his head, and spat out a mouthful of blood onto the ground.

Seeing him suddenly vomit blood again, Luo Mo finally panicked. She quickly grabbed his wrist to check his meridians, and what she found sent her into a frenzy.

His heart meridian had been forcibly reconnected in the pool beneath Sunset Cliff, making it inherently weaker. In fact, it was even more fragile than Xiao Huan’s, who, though frail, at least hadn’t suffered a complete severance.

Even so, he hadn’t endured any external injuries these past days and had been taking medicine to recuperate. He should have been improving day by day. But when she checked just now, she was shocked to find his inner force in chaos, and that fragile heart meridian was on the verge of snapping again—clearly a life-threatening condition.

Not daring to delay any further, she sent an urgent signal with a chime while immediately scooping him up by the waist and carrying him to the bed in the inner chamber. Afraid he might struggle to breathe if laid flat, she propped him up against her shoulder and placed a hand on his dantian, channeling gentle inner force into his meridians.

Despite such careful attention, he continued to gasp weakly, coughing incessantly. Blood-flecked foam trickled endlessly from his lips—evidence of how hard he had suppressed it earlier, to the point where even now, the blood couldn’t be fully expelled.Luo Mo knew all too well how ruthless the Xiao family could be toward themselves. Taking a light breath to steady herself, she used her sleeve to cushion his lips and coaxed softly, "Yu, don't hold it in. Spit it out first."

He obediently coughed up two mouthfuls of blood. His deep eyes cleared slightly as he raised his hand to loosely grasp her fingers, staring straight at her. The faint smile on his lips seemed even more ethereal. "When I first woke up at the bottom of the pool... I thought you wouldn’t let me die because that way would still be too easy for me..."

Luo Mo recalled the lifeless, indifferent gaze in his eyes when he had first opened them, and for some reason, her heart ached. She lowered her head to press a gentle kiss to his pale lips, soothing him even more tenderly. "I don’t want you to die because I can’t bear to let you go like this."

His gaze softened with affection, his voice growing even quieter. "I never thought... in this lifetime... I’d ever receive even a hint of kindness from you again... These past days, I kept wondering if it was all just my delusion... that I was lost in a dream without realizing it..."

Luo Mo noticed his breath growing weaker, his words carrying an ominous undertone. She quickly interrupted him, urging, "Stop talking like this. Steady your breathing and focus. Xiao Qing will be here soon."

He curved his lips into another faint smile, ignoring her words and continuing in a voice so weak it seemed steeped in exhaustion. "Mo'er... whether this is a dream or not... I’m just... too tired..."

Luo Mo refused to believe he would die now. After all, Xiao Yu was someone who had survived the brink of death multiple times—how could he just die so suddenly, so inexplicably, when everything seemed to be going well?

Yet he gazed at her with infinite tenderness, lifting his hand to brush his cool fingertips lightly across her cheek. His voice was so soft it nearly dissolved into the wind. "If you can truly let go... find someone who can really make you happy... someone like Fei Qi..."

Those were the words he hadn’t finished when she had run him through with her sword on the cliff. So he had wanted her to find someone else. Luo Mo couldn’t hold his hand, so she tightened her arms around his shoulders, speaking through gritted teeth. "Fei Qi is you."

He smiled faintly, blood still trickling from the corner of his lips, staining his white robes crimson. His voice was barely a whisper. "Yes... but you wouldn’t believe me..."

Luo Mo’s heart clenched as she saw his gaze grow unfocused—a clear sign of impending collapse. Desperate, she tried to reassure him. "Yu, I believe you. I’ve believed you for a long time... Once you’re better, I’ll take you back to Jiangnan to see our little courtyard, alright?"

His lips curved slightly at that, a trace of longing flickering in his deep eyes—though the light in them dimmed further. He murmured, "Today... is my elder brother’s death anniversary..."

Just the word "brother" made his face turn even paler, his brows knitting tightly in unmistakable agony.

Luo Mo cursed herself for bringing up such a topic. She quickly embraced him, murmuring soothingly, "You know how much the Crown Prince loved fireworks. It’s the season for them now, so I had the children set some off to liven things up... It was my fault for not inviting you to watch. Next time, we’ll go together, alright?"

She hurriedly added, "Or I can have them set off more tomorrow—we’ll watch them tomorrow!"His dimming gaze still lingered on her face, and he smiled faintly once more: "This is fine too... Every year on this day, the first person you'll think of will surely be your brother..."

After saying this, his long lashes fluttered slightly as if too weary to stay open, and his body relaxed as though succumbing to exhaustion. Even the hand that had been loosely holding hers slipped away soundlessly.

Luo Mo's heart turned cold, and she hurriedly embraced him, shouting, "Yu! Xiao Yu! If you dare pretend to be dead again, I swear I'll kill you myself!"

When Qing Li rushed into their bedroom in a panic, medicine box in hand, this was the scene he witnessed: their former Grand Sect Leader and teacher desperately clutching their shiniang, whose chest was stained with crimson, and whose pale lips bore a streak of bright red blood.

The scene was as tragically beautiful as could be, enough to move anyone to tears... if one ignored their teacher's words.

Dashing over, Qing Li swiftly inserted silver needles to stabilize shiniang's fading breath. As he gestured for Luo Mo to lay Xiao Yu on the bed for treatment, he couldn't help but remark, "Teacher, with shiniang in this state, you really shouldn't torment him further. How could you bear to treat such a beauty so harshly?"

Luo Mo, still shaken, noticed the faint rise and fall of Xiao Yu's chest—his breath was weak, but at least present. Just as she began to relax slightly, Qing Li's words struck her like a blow. After a pause, she retorted, "I didn't do anything."

Zhong Lin and Wu Shui had already arrived, now gathered anxiously around the bed, their eyes filled with concern for shiniang. Wu Shui sighed, "Though I know shiniang looks even more stunning like this, Teacher, you must think of the future. If he's always hanging by a thread, he won't last long."

Luo Mo glanced back at her disciples, their faces openly displaying both pity for shiniang and reproach toward her. The corner of her mouth twitched. "I recall when I had you hunt down Gui Wuchang, you all seemed quite enthusiastic."

The members of the Azure Jade Sect thought back to Gui Wuchang's appearance: perpetually draped in a loose gray robe that concealed his form, his face hidden behind an utterly ordinary mask.

They all shook their heads in unison. "We didn't know shiniang looked like this back then. Had we known, we'd have prioritized teasing over hunting."

This reminded Luo Mo of the time she'd sent these unruly disciples to pursue Xiao Huan—they hadn't exerted any real effort, instead spending hundreds of miles leisurely observing and teasing him.

Old grievances resurfaced, and Luo Mo's eyelid twitched. "Do you really think I won't send you to the back mountain for reflection?"

The disciples shook their heads in unison, pointing at Zhong Lin. "Teacher, Little Zhong is the Sect Leader now. Only she can decide."

Zhong Lin, who had been thrust into the role of Sect Leader with little seniority, hastily raised her hands in a placating gesture toward her senior disciples. "As if I'd ever make everyone face the wall, haha."

Luo Mo fell silent. Meanwhile, the others had already moved on to chatting. Wu Shui stroked her chin thoughtfully. "Speaking of Young Master Xiao, he's undeniably beautiful, but he never really looked like a Sect Leader. I used to wonder who he took after—until I saw shiniang's true appearance, and it all made sense... Of course shiniang couldn't be ugly, right? If he were, how could Teacher have remained so devoted all these years?"

The others nodded emphatically in agreement. It seemed Xiao Yu hadn't needed to do anything—his face alone had won over the entire Azure Jade Sect.Luo Mo was silent for a moment before speaking leisurely, "So all you kids are just judging by appearances, huh?"

The group admitted this with shameless pride: "We learned from the best teacher!"

Luo Mo was left utterly speechless. Meanwhile, the conversation had already shifted again, thanks to Wu Shui's lead: "Speaking of which, Ban Le, where's your Wind Boss these days? Why hasn't he been coming around lately? Seeing only our beautiful teacher's wife is nice, but even beauty can get a bit monotonous after a while."

Ban Le snorted lightly, "I told him not to keep running over to the Headquarters. Doesn't he know there are too many wolves here?"

Wu Shui immediately retorted with a faint smile, "Oh? Are you implying that's me?"

Seeing them about to start bickering again, Luo Mo wearily waved her hand, "All of you, except Qing Li, get out. Don't disturb my beauty."

Zhong Lin quietly ducked her head and giggled, "Hehe, 'my beauty'... still pretending not to care..."

Being the most quick-witted, she pulled the others out before Luo Mo could glare at her.

Qing Li, however, remained serious. After administering acupuncture to Xiao Yu, she said to Luo Mo, "Teacher's wife was indeed in grave danger this time. That potent medicine he asked me to prepare earlier might be worth trying."

After returning from the cliff's base, before Xiao Huan had set off, Xiao Yu and Luo Mo naturally avoided him. Xiao Yu then gave Qing Li a prescription, mentioning that a few ingredients were hard to find—only the Azure Jade Sect had them—and asked her to prepare it.

Upon seeing the prescription, Qing Li recognized it as a life-sustaining formula. Even if one were on the brink of death, a single pill could prolong life for three to five days. The concoction wasn't difficult, but one or two ingredients were indeed rare specialties of northern Yunnan. Apart from the Azure Jade Sect, they might only be found in isolated Tibetan regions.

Without hesitation, she set about preparing the medicine. However, the ingredients were scarce, yielding only ten pills. Once finished, Qing Li handed them to Xiao Yu, who presumably stored them away, as they were never used.

Luo Mo was aware of all this but didn't intervene. She watched as Xiao Yu arranged for the medicine's preparation, thinking to herself how the former Emperor Delun truly valued his life, going to such lengths to prepare for the worst at the slightest decline in health.

Xiao Yu didn't hide the bottle, keeping it in a small cabinet in the bedroom. Hearing this, Luo Mo rose to retrieve it and placed a pill in his mouth.

His meridians were too weak, and the pill was too potent, so it had to dissolve slowly in his mouth, allowing the medicine to seep gradually into his system.

Under the combined effects of the medicine and acupuncture, Xiao Yu's breathing soon grew heavier, and his deathly pallor faded. Only then did Luo Mo relax, slowly sitting by the bed.

Seeing her state, Qing Li sighed, "Teacher's wife probably won't wake until tomorrow. You'll have to take care of him diligently, teacher."

Luo Mo raised a tired hand to wave her off, signaling it was fine.

True to Qing Li's prediction, Xiao Yu didn't wake until the afternoon of the next day, having slept a full twelve hours. Throughout, Luo Mo fed him ginseng soup in place of meals.

Having spent the night on edge, barely closing her eyes, Luo Mo was overjoyed when he awoke. She hurriedly helped him sit up and fed him warm, pre-prepared silver ear soup.

Yet, after just two sips of the smooth soup to moisten his throat, Xiao Yu frowned slightly and glanced at the porcelain bottle on the bedside cabinet, asking, "Who gave me this medicine?"His voice was still weak, but there was a hint of accusation in his tone. After all, he had been an emperor for years, and even after spending some time in the Martial World, once he grew serious, that imperious air still surfaced.

Luo Mo was momentarily taken aback but chose not to argue, answering casually, "Qing Li said your condition was too critical, so I took out the medicine. From yesterday till today, you’ve taken two pills in succession."

Upon hearing he had already consumed two pills, Xiao Yu’s brows furrowed even tighter, his tone turning sharp. "This medicine was specially refined for Huan’er. It just hadn’t been delivered yet. Why was it given to me?"

This hadn’t occurred to Luo Mo. She had assumed Xiao Yu had prepared it for himself. Only now did she recall that refining the medicine had taken some time, and by the time it was ready, Xiao Huan had already departed for the capital.

As for Zhong Lin, who had escorted him, he had returned to the Headquarters and wouldn’t be back in the Central Plains for a few more days.

But Xiao Yu’s tone irked her, and she scoffed lightly. "If you hadn’t taken it, yesterday would’ve been your death anniversary next year. Besides, you never said it was for Huan’er. I thought His Majesty had reserved it for himself as a lifesaver."

Xiao Yu, of course, detected the impatience and anger in her voice. Over the years, he had grown accustomed to her speaking to him this way. The rare tenderness she had shown during his semi-conscious state yesterday was so unusual he couldn’t tell if it had been a hallucination from his weakness or if it had truly happened.

He had never bothered to engage with Luo Mo’s provocations or sarcasm. Hearing her words, he merely pressed his lips together and fell silent.

Seeing his recently improved complexion pale again, Luo Mo didn’t dare say more and quietly fed him a few more spoonfuls of broth.

Xiao Yu cooperated this time, eating slowly despite intermittent coughs, managing to finish half a bowl. Yet his brows remained slightly furrowed, carrying an indescribable weariness.

In the following days, under Qing Li’s careful care, he recovered enough to move about on his own, though he became even more reticent than before. He spent his days either studying chess manuals or sitting on the veranda with a book for hours on end.

He also developed a habit of spacing out. One rare rainy day, Luo Mo walked onto the veranda and found him staring intently at the falling rain, his gaze lowered as if lost in thought. The book in his hand had slipped to the ground, and one arm was stretched beyond the veranda, half-soaked by the rain.

Summer rain in northern Yunnan was far colder than in the Central Plains, and his weakened state made it worse. Luo Mo hurried over, grasping his wrist to pull his arm back. His skin was icy to the touch, almost lifeless.

Only then did he snap out of his daze. Turning to her, he seemed momentarily disoriented before smiling faintly and murmuring, "Mo’er."

Annoyed by his disregard for his health, she scowled and didn’t respond. He chuckled again, bracing against the railing to stand, but whether from sitting too long or weakness, his body swayed slightly, unsteady for a moment.

Without thinking, Luo Mo reached out to steady him, but he sidestepped her hand, supporting himself against a pillar instead before straightening and brushing past her.

Luo Mo was momentarily stunned, watching his broad-sleeved robe flutter as he walked down the veranda, his figure appearing gaunt. Only then did it belatedly occur to her—were his clothes too thin?It wasn't her fault either. She herself dressed simply, always wearing the same light green gauze robe. After he arrived, his previous clothes were torn and stained with blood, so they were naturally discarded. She had the sect members bring over the everyday garments worn by male disciples.

Thus, he continued to wear those simple and elegant white robes. However, the bitter cold of Yundian was harsh, and while both the sect disciples and she herself could rely on their Inner Force to ward off the chill, Xiao Yu was different.

Though Xiao Yu still possessed Inner Force, his frail body was constantly ailing, making him far more vulnerable to the cold than the others. Back when Xiao Huan was around, he too would dress more heavily than the sect members, often adding a Cape over his outer robes.

As she pondered this, she considered whether to have someone fetch warmer clothing for him—but before she could act, Li Banle took the initiative.

The little troublemaker arrived with Wu Shui, the big troublemaker, cheerfully carrying a snow-blue Cape woven from fox fur and silk, meticulously embroidered by hand. It was both warm and gracefully stylish.

Li Banle said happily, "I noticed Shiniang always dresses too lightly and keeps coughing. This Cape was originally made for Jiang with fabric and a tailor I found. Since Shiniang and Jiang are about the same height and build, and there was extra fabric, I had another one made for Shiniang."

Back when Xiao Yu was still a prince and later an emperor, he had never needed to worry about his attire. The palace alone stored enough of his clothes to fill an entire room, with new seasonal garments delivered annually by the Imperial Weaving Bureau—some of which were sealed away without ever being worn.

Even later, when he wandered the Martial World, enduring hardships, his profound Inner Force meant he dressed more for disguise than comfort, indifferent to thickness or material.

Thus, Luo Mo hadn’t noticed his light clothing, and neither had he. Now, receiving this gift, he was pleasantly surprised.

Seeing that the Cape’s style and material suited his taste, Xiao Yu’s gaze softened with faint appreciation as he accepted it with a smile. "Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Miss Li."

Li Banle grinned. "Not at all—it’s just borrowing flowers to offer to Buddha. I’m glad Shiniang doesn’t mind that it matches Jiang’s."

She then stepped forward to drape it over Xiao Yu’s shoulders. Since they were all children Luo Mo had taken in, if Luo Mo was their mother, then Xiao Yu naturally played the role of father. The gesture was pure filial devotion, executed without the slightest awkwardness.

Given Li Banle’s relationship with Feng Yuanjiang, the Cape made for him must have been crafted with utmost care—every detail, from fabric to color to design, was meticulously chosen. As the warm, heartfelt Cape settled on Xiao Yu’s shoulders, it lent a soft glow to his overly pale complexion.

Adjusting the garment, Xiao Yu thanked Li Banle again with a smile.

Like Xiao Huan, he often wore a faint smile in idle moments, and these days, he smiled frequently. But this time, his joy was more heartfelt—his eyes crinkling slightly, his gaze shimmering, leaving even Li Banle, who was wholly devoted to her beloved Jiang, momentarily stunned.

Wu Shui was no exception. Sitting across from them, his eyes nearly popped out as he leaned over to whisper to Luo Mo, "Teacher, can I come deliver clothes to Shiniang every day from now on?"

Watching Xiao Yu’s expression—a mix of contentment and happiness—Luo Mo felt an inexplicable pang of sorrow. Though it was just a small thing, she had spent every day with him yet still overlooked his needs to the point where a simple gift from the children could bring him such delight.When Wu Shui and Ban Le were leaving, Luo Mo stopped her senior disciple and said, "Have the disciples in the sect make several sets of clothes according to your shiniang's measurements and send them over—both outer and inner garments. Make a few good capes too. Your shiniang prefers shades of blue-green and black, with minimal embroidery and trim, something simple and understated."

Having served as Xiao Yu's subordinate and empress for many years, she had some understanding of his preferences, and now speaking of them came easily.

Wu Shui agreed, winking at her teacher. "Teacher, be a little nicer to shiniang, won't you? Even I feel bad seeing him like this."

Luo Mo flicked her forehead in mock annoyance. "Hurry up and go already."

When Luo Mo turned back, she saw Xiao Yu taking off the cape from his shoulders again, seemingly intending to fold it and put it away. She immediately went over and pressed his hand down. "Aren't you cold? I thought you liked it. What are you doing?"

Xiao Yu looked up at her in slight surprise and explained, "It’s just that we’re indoors, and it’s not that cold yet. Since I only have one outer garment, I thought I’d save it for when I go outside."

It was just a cape, yet he was treating it like some precious treasure. Luo Mo felt a mix of frustration and exasperation, her voice turning cold. "I’ve already told Wu Shui to make several more and send them over. You should wear it when you need to."

Hearing her sharp tone, Xiao Yu wasn’t sure what he had done to upset her. He could only force a faint smile and murmur an acknowledgment, but he didn’t pick the cape back up to drape over himself.

Luo Mo touched his hand—it was icy cold. She wanted to help him put the cape on, but years of aloofness made it hard to lower her pride. With another cold snort, she turned and walked away in a huff.

Wu Shui was always efficient. The next day, she delivered a pile of new clothes, including three capes—one purple, one black, and one white. She couldn’t admit that she had essentially commandeered some of Xu Lai and Liu Huaixue’s newly made clothes, so she claimed they had been rushed overnight. She promised that from then on, shiniang would receive several new garments every month—no way would they let such a beauty suffer.

Xiao Yu accepted them with his usual thanks and afterward began rotating through the capes indoors. However, the pale lavender one was carefully folded and stored in the wardrobe, clearly reserved for outings or important occasions.

Watching him, Luo Mo felt a wave of helplessness. For a moment, it was as if she were some bandit king who had forcibly taken a beautiful man as her captive, yet no matter what she did, she couldn’t win his favor—an inexplicable frustration.

After the clothing incident, some of the more leisurely disciples at the headquarters, like Wu Shui and Ban Le, began visiting Xiao Yu frequently, always bringing small gifts.

Luo Mo, meanwhile, busied herself with reading, writing, and training, giving Xiao Yu more time to interact with the disciples.

With his natural imperial bearing and years of experience in the Martial World, his stories of past adventures were as thrilling as any tale from a storybook.

The disciples soon took to pestering him with questions, calling him "shiniang" with increasing affection. By then, Xiao Yu understood that the title carried no mockery—it was a sign of closeness—so he no longer minded.

One day, Wu Shui mysteriously brought over an ancient scroll map, claiming it led to a tomb left behind by the ancient Dian Kingdom, located near the headquarters. She had long wanted to explore it but had been stopped by Luo Mo, who insisted she not go looking for trouble.The tomb wasn't particularly mysterious, but it seemed to contain many mechanisms. If there was nothing important inside, it truly wasn't worth the risk. Over the years, Wu Shui had gradually studied and drawn the mechanisms from ancient scrolls, treating it as a pastime to indulge in when bored.

Xiao Yu, due to Xiao Yi's influence, also had some expertise in mechanisms. After glancing at Wu Shui's work, he casually offered a few pointers, which suddenly enlightened her.

Thus, Wu Shui and Ban Le, who always loved joining in on the fun, became instantly intrigued. Seeing that Luo Mo was still in seclusion practicing martial arts, they persuaded Xiao Yu to join them in investigating the tomb.

Having been cooped up indoors for so many days, Xiao Yu was feeling relatively well both physically and mentally these days. Moreover, he couldn't bear to disappoint the two youngsters. What weighed more on his mind was that even if he didn't go, given Wu Shui and Ban Le's enthusiasm, they would likely venture there on their own sooner or later.

Both of them possessed first-rate martial arts and lightness skills, but their weakness lay in their lack of combat experience, often faltering at critical moments—precisely why they had lost to Xiao Huan back then. If they went alone and got injured by the mechanisms, it would be unfortunate.

After weighing the options, Xiao Yu decided to accompany Wu Shui and Ban Le. Under Ban Le's expectant gaze, he even changed into the lavender cape she had gifted him.

The details of their exploration in the Ancient Tomb need not be elaborated. Suffice it to say, the three relied on their exceptional lightness skills to emerge with barely a speck of dust on them. The tomb indeed held little of value, save for what appeared to be a shared burial coffin.

However, as they were leaving, Ban Le accidentally triggered a mechanism, sending them into a flurry to dodge a volley of hidden weapons.

Once safely on the ground, Xiao Yu first checked on Wu Shui and Ban Le. Seeing them unharmed, he relaxed and smiled, "Thank goodness you're both fine. If you'd been hurt, your teacher would never let me hear the end of it."

Wu Shui, still catching her breath, laughed and said, "We're not that important. How could our teacher bear to lay a hand on you, Shiniang?"

Xiao Yu chuckled again, recalling how he had once tested the waters by threatening the disciples of the Azure Jade Sect. Luo Mo, already enraged by the supposed death of "Fei Qi," had glared at him and declared, "Xiao Yu, if you dare harm even a hair on their heads, I will make sure you suffer the agony of a thousand cuts and die a miserable death."

Having seen just how much her disciples meant to her, how could he ever entertain such thoughts again? Moreover, these children had practically grown up before his eyes—kind, lovely, and pure-hearted. How could he ever harm them?

Even now, not only would he never hurt them, but he would also do his utmost to protect them, lest Luo Mo grieve and suffer.

Hearing Wu Shui's words, he didn't bother explaining further, simply smiling and saying, "Your teacher isn't one for many words, but she holds you all very dear in her heart."

Wu Shui wanted to retort that even if their teacher didn't say much, she surely cherished Shiniang deeply. But then she remembered how Luo Mo had carried Xiao Yu up from the cliff's base, utterly distraught, as if her very soul would scatter if the person in her arms were to perish. Yet once Xiao Yu truly awoke, Luo Mo had become distant and indifferent.

Suddenly, Wu Shui wasn't so sure where exactly their teacher placed Shiniang in her heart, and so she fell silent.

By the time they finished speaking, they had already exited the tomb passageway and returned to daylight. Xiao Yu lingered behind them, seemingly to cover their retreat, and Wu Shui and Ban Le thought little of it.After only a few steps, he suddenly stopped, bracing himself against a nearby tree. Beads of sweat on his forehead were unmistakable under the sunlight, silently trickling down.

Wu Shui and Ban Le quickly turned back to look and saw his figure already swaying unsteadily. Even his usually pale lips had taken on a bluish-purple hue, yet he still managed to force a faint smile at them. After a light cough, his voice, now devoid of strength, floated like mist: "I truly can't go on now... Sorry for dirtying the clothes you gave me..."

Wu Shui and Ban Le, horrified, rushed back to support him. That was when they noticed a bronze hidden weapon embedded in his shoulder. The weapon was clearly poisoned, as the surrounding area had already seeped with an eerie dark purple bloodstain, soaking a patch of his snow-blue cape.

Ban Le suddenly recalled the moment the trap was triggered. Stunned, she had frozen in place, and it was Xiao Yu who had shielded her, pulling her aside with a swift motion. The three of them then used their qinggong to leap away, narrowly avoiding the rain of hidden weapons.

After that, the hidden weapons had no chance to get near them again. If Xiao Yu had been injured, it could only have happened at that moment. Realizing this, Ban Le's eyes instantly reddened—how could she care about clothes now?

Wu Shui, her face pale, pressed on the major acupoints around Xiao Yu's wound. Gritting her teeth, she channeled her Inner Force and lifted him by the waist, swiftly using qinggong to carry him toward the villa where he and Luo Mo lived.

Even without a moment's delay, by the time they arrived at the villa and carefully laid Xiao Yu on the bed, the bloodstain had spread further. His lips grew even more bluish-purple, a clear sign that the poison had invaded his meridians.

Wu Shui had already summoned Qing Li with a whistle outside the ancient tomb. Now, pressing on the acupoints at Xiao Yu's neck, her face turned paler and paler. Her lips trembled as she said, "It's all my fault. I shouldn't have dragged Shiniang there."

Luo Mo, hearing the commotion from the inner chamber, stepped out just in time to catch those words. When she saw the state of the person lying on the bed, her pupils constricted. She rushed over without hesitation, placing her hand on his Dantian and channeling her pure Inner Force to protect his heart meridian.

Overwhelmed with fury, she lashed out harshly, "Who allowed you to act so recklessly?"

Wu Shui and Ban Le, who had followed her for over a decade, had never seen her so furious before. They were momentarily stunned. Even the usually fearless Wu Shui murmured dazedly, "It's not Shiniang's fault. It's all me..."

Since the poison entered his meridians, Xiao Yu had felt the voices around him fading in and out, his vision blurring beyond recognition. Hearing her scold Wu Shui and Ban Le, he mustered the last of his strength to say, "It's not their fault..."

Luo Mo, hearing his voice so weak it was barely audible, yet still defending them, flared up in anger: "Xiao Yu, after all these years, do I not know what kind of person you are? You couldn't even dodge a mere hidden weapon! Tell me, did you get hurt on purpose just to put on this pitiful act now?"

Her words were sharp, her voice raised. Even poisoned, Xiao Yu heard every syllable clearly. He wanted to explain, but his lips moved soundlessly. His consciousness and strength were slipping away rapidly. Having suffered many poisons before, he knew this one likely attacked the nerves directly—whether he would wake again was uncertain.In the end, he could only muster the strength to curve his lips slightly, uttering his final words before darkness claimed him: "I'm sorry... I really couldn't dodge it..."

As soon as Luo Mo finished speaking, even Wu Shui and Ban Le were stunned. They truly hadn't expected Luo Mo to blame Xiao Yu at such a critical moment, and those heart-piercing words carried not a shred of warmth.

Watching as the last glimmer of light faded from Xiao Yu's already lifeless dark pupils, his eyes closing as his body went limp and collapsed, Ban Le fell silent for a moment before bursting into loud sobs.

Back when they thought Feng Yuanjiang had died, she had managed to hold back her wails, but now she cried uncontrollably, her sobs wracking her body as she struggled to speak through her grief: "Shiniang was trying to save me... If it weren't for Shiniang... I would be the one poisoned... How could you be so cruel, Teacher..."

Holding the cold body in her arms, for a moment Luo Mo couldn't think of anything. Only when Ban Le's tearful, choked words reached her ears did she feel as if a row of fine needles had pierced her heart, the pain spreading densely and growing worse with each breath, layer upon layer threatening to bury her entirely.

Fortunately, as a physician, Qing Li always arrived in time. She opened her medicine chest and immediately began acupuncture to expel the poison, carefully extracting the hidden weapon from Xiao Yu's shoulder and excising the necrotic flesh, her focus so intense that beads of cold sweat formed on her forehead.

After squeezing out much of the poisoned blood, staining one gauze after another crimson, she finally cleansed the wound of toxins. She applied a generous amount of medicine, finally stopping the relentless flow of blood.

Xiao Yu was already weak, the terrible sword wound on his chest barely healed. After repeated blood loss and injuries, his face was deathly pale. Qing Li meticulously bandaged the wound, her voice trembling as she spoke: "The toxins that have spread to his meridians can only be slowly expelled with medicine. I can't say for certain when he'll wake up."

Luo Mo had already gently laid Xiao Yu on the bed, positioning him carefully to avoid pressure on his wounds. Ban Le had been watching the entire time, still clutching Xiao Yu's sleeve and softly sobbing, her posture full of dependence and guilt.

Luo Mo glanced at her and said softly, "Shui'er, go find Mr. Feng to comfort Xiao Le."

Wu Shui, also wiping her tears, agreed and pulled Ban Le up to coax her away. Before leaving, she turned back to look at Xiao Yu lying on the bed, her eyes red as she said, "Teacher, we only have one Shiniang."

With Xiao Yu unconscious, aside from Luo Mo, Qing Li also tended to him tirelessly in the villa, even summoning two junior disciples from the medicine hall to handle miscellaneous tasks.

Yet despite their devoted care, after three or four days, Xiao Yu still showed no signs of waking. His breathing grew fainter each day, and apart from slight twitches in his fingers when the toxins flared, his entire body remained motionless.

Luo Mo hadn't slept for days. She didn't dare to close her eyes, for the moment she did, she seemed to see Xiao Yu's lifeless gaze and smile before he lost consciousness, as well as that moment on the cliff—the scene she had been too afraid to recall—where the sword she had thrust pierced his chest, staining his robes red, yet he had still managed to smile faintly at her before falling backward.She knew she had regrets, otherwise she wouldn’t have jumped off the cliff with his body in her arms without hesitation, even when half her strength was gone, just to find that possibly nonexistent icy spring.

If Xiao Yu hadn’t survived that day, she would have died too.

Her life had always been plagued by misfortune, forcing her to scheme and plan for everything, never daring to trust fate or gamble with her life. Yet this time, she had unexpectedly escaped death, with luck so good she could hardly believe it herself.

But now? She had saved him, brought him back to the Headquarters, yet still couldn’t hold onto him, couldn’t keep him. She could only watch helplessly as the two of them ended up in such a state again.

By the fifth day, Qing Li, who had barely rested in days, had bloodshot eyes as she said, “Teacher, don’t blame me for not trying my best. It’s just… Shiniang himself has no will to live.”

She was usually quick to grasp implications, understanding deeper meanings from mere hints, but this time, she seemed not to comprehend, staring fixedly at her disciple.

Qing Li sighed inwardly and continued, “Teacher, at this point, anyone who could wake up would have already. It’s Shiniang himself… who doesn’t want to wake up, doesn’t want to live.”

Seeing her silent, Qing Li knew that without harsh words now, the cycle would only repeat even if Xiao Yu woke up. Steeling herself, she added, “Two days ago, I secretly spoke with Wu Shui and told her to prepare for the funeral arrangements. Though our sect’s rites are simple, it’s better to be prepared. Shiniang has been kind to all our fellow disciples these past days—it wouldn’t sit right with everyone if things were too shabby.”

Only then did Luo Mo glance at her, but still said nothing.

Qing Li clenched her teeth and pressed on, “Or does Teacher think we shouldn’t bother with a burial and just toss him back off the cliff?”

Luo Mo knew she was deliberately provoking her, but these disciples cared deeply for her. Even such words were spoken out of concern, and she understood that. Her expression shifted several times before she finally waved a hand and said, “I know. Just speak plainly, Qing Li.”

Seeing her acquiesce, Qing Li dropped the pretense. “Teacher, when you first brought Shiniang back, I said saving his life wasn’t as important as saving his heart. Now, his body has been saved, but what about his heart? If you truly love and value him, then let go of the past and treat him well. If you just couldn’t bear to see him die so easily, and instead tormented him until his heart turned to ash… then you’ve already achieved that. Why not let him go now? Give him a proper burial, build him a grave—at least that would honor what you once shared.”

As Luo Mo listened, it struck her that in her disciples’ eyes, she had been deliberately torturing Xiao Yu. She recalled how, before losing consciousness, Xiao Yu had also guessed whether she simply couldn’t bear to let him off so easily.

She had always assumed he misunderstood her and couldn’t be bothered to explain. But if even her disciples, who knew her well and had watched coldly from the sidelines, saw it this way—how much worse must it have been in his eyes?

She didn’t dare dwell on it. Just the thought made her realize that what she had seen as peaceful, graceful days were, in truth, steps through a hellish landscape too grotesque to look back on.Qing Li could tell from her expression that she had guessed wrong. After quietly sighing in relief, she said, "Forgive me for speaking bluntly, Master, but even if we save her and she lives happily with careful nurturing every day, at most she’d only have a few years left—let alone enduring such torment every three to five days. I may not quite match Divine Doctor Li in medical skills, but I’m not inferior to Young Master Xiao. Yet if this happens once or twice more, I truly don’t know if I can save her again... Must you wait until that moment to regret it when it’s too late?"

Luo Mo listened with a calm expression and remained silent for a long time. Only after Qing Li had waited for quite a while did she see her raise a hand and say, "I understand. Thank you for your concern, Xiao Qing."

Qing Li shook her head. "You’ve raised and taught us with great kindness, Master. Saying more would be excessive."

With that, she glanced at Xiao Yu once more before taking her leave and stepping out.

Only Luo Mo and the unconscious man remained in the inner chamber. Seated by the bedside, she reached out and grasped his cold, unresponsive hand.

Though she knew he couldn’t hear her, she still spoke softly, “Xiao Yu, I won’t allow you to die. So you must wake up for me. No matter how unwilling, how reluctant, or how exhausted you are… you must wake. Consider this the last debt you owe me. If you wake, our grievances will be settled. If you don’t, I’ll chase you to the ends of the earth and never let you go.”

After enunciating each word deliberately, she tightened her grip, not only holding him firmly but also channeling a surge of Inner Force into his Meridians. It coursed through him like a relentless parasite, refusing to fade until death.

The man, who had been lifeless for days, finally furrowed his brows slightly, and faint coughs escaped his lips.

Afraid of pushing him too hard, Luo Mo quickly withdrew her strength and Inner Force. She leaned down to press gentle kisses on his cheeks and lips, her tone softening, “Yu, wake up. I’m waiting for you.”

The disciples never learned what their teacher had done, but by dawn the next day, Xiao Yu, who had been unconscious for days, finally awoke.

His awakening meant he had survived this ordeal. While others remained silent, Wu Shui and Ban Le were overjoyed, crowding around his bedside to eagerly pledge their devotion—vowing to protect their “teacher’s wife” with their lives on future outings and begging for her forgiveness this time.

Xiao Yu didn’t think they needed his forgiveness in the first place. Weak as he was, he still managed a faint smile. “It’s nothing. Don’t blame yourselves.”

Seeing the frail beauty comforting them the moment he regained consciousness, Wu Shui and Ban Le were utterly overwhelmed. Sobbing, they ran out, telling everyone how gentle and considerate their teacher’s wife was—how he was truly a celestial being, just like Young Master Xiao, his own flesh and blood.

Luo Mo had no comment on this newfound “obsession with the teacher’s wife.” She simply remained by the bedside, devotedly caring for Xiao Yu as she had during his previous injuries and illnesses, handling every task personally without delegation.

This time, however, she was more mindful of her words. If she felt a cutting remark rising to her lips, she chose silence, focusing instead on her actions.

Years of entanglement with Xiao Yu had made their mutual barbs habitual. Changing this dynamic wasn’t as easy as she’d imagined. Yet whenever she was tempted to say something sharp, she reminded herself of how he’d looked while unconscious—and even the slightest barb died on her tongue.

Xiao Yu naturally noticed this change, but with lingering toxins still clouding his mind and sapping his energy, he couldn’t dwell on it. He simply let her take care of him.

The most striking change after his awakening was his hair. Already streaked with gray, it now steadily lost its black pigment. Beyond his temples, even the crown and back of his head gradually whitened.

This transformation had begun during his coma and accelerated after he woke, his hair growing paler by the day. Within a week, it seemed, his once-dark locks would turn entirely silver.

He hadn’t looked in a mirror, but his hair spilled over his shoulders and sides, visible whenever he turned his head.

Due to the unique Inner Force techniques of the Xiao family, many ancestors had experienced sudden whitening of hair as their health declined. Yet Xiao Yu was only thirty-nine, still months shy of forty. For him to show such signs of exhaustion so early was rare indeed.Luo Mo had entered the palace in her early teens, so she naturally remembered how Xiao Yi and Xiao Huan's father had looked before his passing—his hair turning white in just a few days, followed by his sudden departure from this world.

Now, every day as she combed and tended to his long hair, she would silently note the increasing strands of white without a word.

On this day, after finishing his hair and tying it into a neat bundle with a silk ribbon, she found that not a single black strand remained amidst the overwhelming white. Leaning in, she pressed a gentle kiss to his temple.

As her lips touched his skin, a single tear silently fell onto his face.

The warmth of the teardrop against his cheek was unmistakable. Xiao Yu froze for a moment before noticing her pull back slightly, the clear trace of a tear still lingering at the corner of her eye.

He still remembered the last time he had seen her cry—back when he was still Fei Qi, wandering the Martial World with her. That was the only time he had ever seen her shed tears.

Over all these years, that had been the sole instance. The last survivor of the Jiang family, no matter how difficult or bitter life became, never wept. Her tears had long since dried up on the day her family was destroyed.

Yet now, she had cried again—silently shedding a single tear in front of him. Xiao Yu felt that tear burn and chill him to the core, as if it had somehow revived the blood in his long-dried heart, bringing back the ache.

He raised his hand, brushing away the tear from the corner of her eye with his fingertips, and called softly, "Mo'er?"

Luo Mo felt a little embarrassed and instinctively wanted to pull away from his touch, but she forced herself to stay still. Instead, she leaned slightly into his cold palm before smiling and saying, "It's nothing. The weather is gloomy and rainy today—my eyes just feel a bit uncomfortable."

Such an obvious and clumsy lie wasn’t even convincing to herself. Xiao Yu studied her for a moment before replying, "Gloomy, rainy days are the best for playing the qin. Mo'er, would you like me to play for you?"

Among the Xiao father and sons, Xiao Yu had always been the one skilled with the qin, while Xiao Huan was the one who loved the xiao. Unlike Xiao Huan, who often played his flute during quiet nights or travels, Xiao Yu only ever played the qin on rainy or snowy days.

Especially during rain—the sound of the qin mingling with the steady patter of raindrops carried an indescribable elegance and grace.

Even as a child, Luo Mo had been captivated by his qin playing. Though she had never admitted it, Xiao Yu had always known—she loved listening to him play. No matter how unreadable her emotions were, her eyes would always shine a little brighter after hearing him.

Hearing his offer, Luo Mo naturally agreed. She reached up, her fingers lingering at the edges of his snow-white hair, brushing tenderly against his temples and ears. Softly, she murmured, "Alright. I'll have someone prepare the qin."

The Azure Jade Sect had no shortage of those who fancied themselves refined scholars, so finding a qin was no trouble at all. Soon, one was brought and placed on a table beneath the corridor. It was a fine instrument—though not an ancient piece, it was still a well-crafted qin from a renowned maker.

Even Xiao Yu, upon seeing it, plucked the strings experimentally and remarked, "This is a good qin."

Before he had fallen unconscious, he had been preoccupied with the half-bloodstained cape Ban Le had given him. While he slept, Ban Le had a tailor hurriedly make an identical one. Now, Luo Mo draped it over his shoulders and helped him sit properly.

After briefly testing the qin, he said, "It's been years since I last played—I may be a bit rusty."

Between the years of tending to state affairs in the palace and later roaming the Martial World, he truly hadn’t had the leisure to play.Luo Mo didn’t speak, only resting her hand on his shoulder and adjusting the cape draped over him once more.

Noticing her gesture, he turned his head slightly and gave her a faint smile before lifting his fingers to begin playing. It was a melody he had performed most often—gentle in rhythm, yet carrying an indescribable sorrow and melancholy.

Xiao Yu, a man who had spent his life steeped in schemes and calculations, played the zither with an unexpectedly refined and mournful grace. This was another reason Luo Mo loved listening to him play.

This man’s thoughts were buried too deep. In daily life, one only saw his strategic brilliance and ruthless methods. Only when his music drifted through the air could one catch the faintest glimpse of his true heart.

The piece was long, its notes lingering amidst the sound of rain, as though it would never end. Yet today, the melody halted abruptly midway—the strings unbroken, but the music already silenced.

Xiao Yu pressed his hand against the strings, as if unable to continue. He turned his head and coughed lightly, his lips pressed together, but a streak of vivid red still escaped the corner of his mouth.

Luo Mo froze for a moment before reaching out to steady him, only to see him lean forward slightly. Then, drop by drop, a trail of blood fell onto the zither. His vision seemed to blur as his gaze drifted downward, lost and unfocused.

Luo Mo dared not wait any longer. She quickly wrapped her arms around his shoulders, letting him lean against her, then used her sleeve to wipe the fresh blood slipping from his lips.

His dark eyes were hollow, wandering for a long while without settling on her face. Yet he still managed a faint smile and whispered, “Sorry… still couldn’t finish playing…”

After only half a song, his complexion had grown even paler, his breath weak. Holding him, Luo Mo realized just how excessively thin he had become—his body temperature carrying an inescapable chill.

She recalled Qing Li’s words and truly understood now. In the past, she had always met him with hostility and drawn blades. But now, even if she wanted to keep him, she feared it was already too late.

He rested against her shoulder, closing his eyes lightly. After a pause, he continued in a frail voice, “Don’t give me any more of those medicines… Send the remaining pills to Huan’er… His body is too weak, and he’s suffered too much damage… In a few years, he’ll surely need them…”

As he spoke, it seemed he thought of something else, letting out a soft laugh tinged with his usual carefree teasing. “That little girl from the Ling family… still treats Huan’er well… She pretended to be so heartless before…”

Listening as his voice grew fainter, Luo Mo finally spoke. “Is there anything you want to say to me?”

He paused slightly, coughing a few more times, fresh blood seeping from his lips. In the end, he could only manage another faint smile, unable to speak.

Luo Mo pressed her cheek against his, nuzzling close before turning to place a light kiss on his icy skin. “Yu… are you arranging your final affairs?”

His consciousness was already slipping, but he mustered a breath and chuckled. “Mo’er… are you finally letting me go…?”

His words grew indistinct as he murmured, “Pity… still couldn’t finish a song for you… Not like the things I did for you were ever much to begin with…”

Luo Mo also laughed softly before replying, “How do you know that’s the only thing I liked you doing for me?”She didn’t wait for him to speak further but continued, “Yu, I’ve always been reluctant to say it, but today I want you to hear it… I kept you because I love you. Perhaps it started back in the palace—otherwise, your affair with Yun Zixin wouldn’t have unsettled me so deeply. Later, I met Fei Qi. I loved him and pledged my life to him because he was so much like you… Looking at him, I thought, how wonderful it would be if you weren’t the second prince, if you weren’t the emperor, but just a simple guard like him.

“Then you stood before me and told me he was dead, even burned his body to show me. At that moment, I hated you so much—I didn’t know whether it was because you killed ‘Fei Qi’ or because you shattered my foolish fantasy.

“Yu, we’ve fought for so many years. You hurt me, and I hurt you. That day when I held you and jumped, all I thought was that if I couldn’t save you, at least we could die together. It would be better than leaving me alone in this world to endure endless suffering.”

She was never one to speak much, yet this time, she poured out her heart, recounting her feelings and baring her past without hesitation or restraint. As she spoke, she kissed his closed eyelids and whispered softly into his ear, “Yu, I’ve always loved you deeply. I kept you because I didn’t want to wait for some distant afterlife to meet and love you again. I was afraid that in the vastness of the world, we might never find each other again.”

He listened quietly, and Luo Mo even feared he might have lost consciousness. But his lashes trembled faintly, and then he chuckled weakly, “Mo’er, am I already dead?”

Luo Mo tightened her embrace and said, “I haven’t permitted it. You don’t dare die.”

She really did have such confidence in controlling him. He couldn’t help but smile again. “Yes… I don’t dare…”

Luo Mo didn’t let him finish. She turned her head and pressed her lips to his thin ones. The taste of bitter blood lingered in his mouth, but she paid it no mind, deepening the kiss and even teasing his tongue playfully.

They had kissed countless times before, but never with such tenderness and lingering affection, as if it were etched into their very bones.

When Luo Mo finally pulled away, Xiao Yu was already breathless, his closed eyes fluttering open despite his weakness. With little strength left, he still managed to curve his lips into a smile. “Mo’er… you’re so passionate…”

Luo Mo traced his brows with her fingertips, then placed a crimson pill into his mouth. When he seemed about to spit it out, she pressed her finger to his lips. “Don’t think about saving it for Huan’er. This bottle has been nearly emptied by you these past few days. It’s just a few rare herbs—I’ve already sent Xiao Lai and Huaixue to Tibet to find more. Making dozens more pills for you and your son won’t be a problem.”

With the pill in his mouth, Xiao Yu couldn’t speak easily. As the medicine took effect and his spirits lifted, the darkness before his eyes gradually faded. Gathering some strength, he finally asked, “Did my clothes get stained with blood?”

Luo Mo glanced at the blood on his collar but, recalling how inexplicably precious this robe was to him—how he’d rather spit blood onto the qin than let his sleeves catch it—she soothed him, “No, they’re fine. Not stained.”

Her lips twitched, and she couldn’t resist asking, “Is this robe really so special that you value it more than your life?”Xiao Yu curved his lips into a smile. "After all these years, this is the first time someone has given me a gift..." He paused before admitting, "Besides, don't you like seeing me in clothes like these? Back in the palace, I had a similar one—every time I wore it, you'd glance at me a few extra times..."

Luo Mo had to acknowledge that she did enjoy seeing him in these understated garments. He was naturally striking in appearance, though his sharp brows and eyes often revealed an edge. Wearing these refined clothes softened those edges, making him resemble warm jade—irresistible to look away from.

Xiao Yu spoke as if regretful, sighing lightly, "I originally intended to be buried in this."

Luo Mo had spent days on tenterhooks, exhausting every effort and even resorting to shameless words to pull him back from the brink of death. Hearing him utter such reckless words again made her grit her teeth in frustration, though she suppressed it.

As he spoke, he mustered enough strength to shift slightly, settling into a more comfortable position in her arms. Lowering his eyes, he chuckled softly. "I also thought... only this appearance and my skill with the qin could catch your eye. If I could leave these impressions in your memory, perhaps you'd think of me more often later..."

So he was still angling for a tragically beautiful farewell. Luo Mo listened, restraining herself repeatedly, but finally couldn't hold back a cold laugh. "I told you—I won't allow you to die. Don't even think about taking the easy way out."

Before her words fully faded, he burst into laughter. Luo Mo turned to look and met his eyes, curved with mirth, his deep pupils brimming with tender amusement—brighter than the mountain azaleas in full bloom every May, painting the slopes in radiant splendor.